


Tradition

by WritLarge



Series: JackRabbit 2017 fics [4]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Jackrabbit Week 2017, M/M, Royalty AU, pretty fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge





	Tradition

It was very traditional, the King would give them that.

The Pooka delegation stood confidently in the great hall. It was the second time they had made an official visit. The first had been largely a cultural exchange, with a great deal of focus on the library and sharing techniques between trades. The people had been fascinated. So sleek and elegant, despite the fur, one very quickly forgot how beast-like the Pooka initially seemed after speaking with them. They were also very intelligent. And courteous. The court hadn’t stood on high formality in a very long time, but the castle had rapidly snapped to attention and delighted in the opportunity to showcase their best during the half a year the first delegation had stayed. It had become obvious that stronger ties would soon be formed. Possibly even a proper alliance.

He really should have listened to his advisers when they emphasized how literal the Pooka were, however.

Because now he had a second delegation standing before him, blood seeping into the floor between them from where the severed head of the mighty Spurred Dragon lay. The creature had turned the Northeast into a wasteland a decade prior and been largely unassailable. Yet, here it was. The warrior who’d struck the killing blow was of the noble class, the Pooka being ruled by a collective of learned families, and was now requesting his due. The hand of one of the King’s heirs in marriage, forging the foundation for an ongoing alliance between kingdoms.

It had caused something of an uproar.

“Yes, but it’s a very old tradition and not generally-” one of the lawmakers was doing her best to talk the Pooka around. It didn’t seem to be having any effect.

“Is this not how Your Majesty’s great-grandparents were wed?” One of the Elders questioned the King directly, ears flicking in what seemed like annoyance.

“Oh it was,” he agreed and stood, courtiers and advisers scattering as he approached the Pooka. He came to stand before the presented warrior, noting that they were of almost equal height, save for the ears. A suspicion had begun to form in his mind. “I have several children. Will you be asking for the hand of one of my daughters?”

The warrior blinked quickly and hesitated.

Of course.

The King sighed and gestured at one of the pages, “Fetch Jack to the Chapel.” The smaller room off the Great Hall would give them a chance to speak in peace, instead of discussing family business in front of their guests. 

However.

“I’m afraid I’ve missed your name,” he asked the dragon slayer.

“Aster, your majesty.” 

“Aster. Please join me.” The Pooka in question glanced back and the Elder nodded. Good.

Crossing half the length of the room, the King led Aster to the Chapel and motioned for him to sit. The Pooka settled facing him, lean strength apparent beneath the green coat that he wore. His clothing bore touches of gold and embroidery, delicately done in an understated manner, the cut designed more for practicality than pageantry. Sensible. The Pooka didn’t make a spectacle of their wealth.

“My advisers cautioned me that Pooka were quite particular about details and words.”

“We can be, your majesty,” the warrior answered respectfully. 

“But in this instance, I think perhaps we have a different sort of understanding.” 

Jack chose that moment to duck into the room, looking wary until he caught sight of Aster and grinned. The King crossed his arms and turned a sour look on his youngest son.

“If you’d wanted to get married, Jack, you could have simply asked.”

“But this is so much better,” he answered gleefully, without bothering to deny his involvement, and turned to the Pooka. “And you brought back the whole head!”

Aster smiled at the prince, clearly trying not to look to smug about the accomplishment. The King couldn’t fault him for it. The dragon had eluded his best knights and he was happy to have it dead. The method, however...

“You don’t think this was a bit excessive? Your suitor could have been killed.”

“No way,” Jack shook his head confidently. “Aster hunts all sorts of things. He wanted to do it once he heard about the Dragon. I forgot about the marriage thing.”

“You didn’t know?” That wouldn’t do. He wasn’t about to force his son into marriage, alliance or no.

“We did talk about it,” Aster began tentatively, dropping the honorific. “The Elders brought it up when I told them I intended to hunt the beast. That it would be an ideal opportunity. I went right to Jack then, to warn him, because I wouldn’t have done it if I thought-”

“But I did, and I do, and he killed a Dragon, Dad! Come on!” Jack bounced on his feet. “We’ll have a long engagement, will that make you feel better? Then we can get married in the spring.”

“You’ll stay here, then?” Because that was the heart of the matter. Jack wasn’t first in line for the throne, but only a handful of people had travelled to the Pookan homeland so far. The King wasn’t prepared to send his youngest son off alone into the unknown. It was a long journey to make.

Jack rolled his eyes and seated himself next to his father as if reassure him, but it was Aster who spoke.

“That was the intention. My people were hoping to make a small settlement here as part of the marriage agreements, for trade and building the relationship between kingdoms.” 

Which was all well and good, such an arrangement would be beneficial. Still, the Pooka was a warrior and Jack? The boy was a bit silly and light-hearted. Seeing his son’s open expression, so obviously delighted with the turn of events, the King felt that there must have been more to the Pooka. More than brute strength would have been required for his son to have become so readily enamoured with the warrior.

“What is it that you do when you aren’t slaying dragons, Aster?” The Pooka’s eyes went wide and he glanced at Jack, who nodded encouragingly. 

“Well, mostly I paint.”

“Paint?”

“He’s an artist,” Jack supplied, as though his father were being rather slow. The King knocked him slightly with his shoulder.

“I’m aware of what painting is.” An artist who slayed dragons, well no wonder Jack was intrigued. “And you no doubt spent most of the last visit together, didn’t you?”

Jack nodded, unrepentant. He and a few of his sisters had been deeply enthralled by the Pooka. In hindsight, he should have expected Jack to find some sort of trouble to make.

“All right. If it’s what you want,” Jack nodded again emphatically, “a long engagement. We’ll hammer out the agreement and Aster, along with whoever else in the delegation wishes to remain, can overwinter here.”

“Yes!” Jack fairly well threw himself at his father, hugging him tightly. Aster stood and offered a much more restrained bow.

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Hmph. At least one of you has manners,” he eyed his son, who only smirked in response. “Now, we have a more pressing matter to address.”

Both Aster and Jack looked at him questioningly.

“What the hell am I going do with a bloody great dragon’s head?” Jack’s laughter echoed all the way back into the Hall.


End file.
